The message was right, but the timing was wrong by Matthew Ma

The recent comments by Nigeria’s First Lady, Senator Oluremi Tinubu, have sparked considerable discussion nationwide. In her remarks, she encouraged Nigerians to consider starting small-scale businesses, specifically highlighting traditional street foods such as akara (bean cakes), roasted corn, and kuli-kuli (groundnut snacks).

While her intention appeared to promote self-reliance and foster entrepreneurship among citizens, the response has been mixed. Many Nigerians have expressed concern that this advice reflects a disconnect from the harsh economic realities faced by a significant portion of the population.

With rising unemployment and soaring inflation, critics argue that encouraging individuals to pursue small-scale enterprises seems unrealistic in the face of broader systemic issues affecting the economy. They feel that while entrepreneurship is important, it should not serve as a substitute for comprehensive government support and robust economic policies that address the pressing challenges of poverty and job creation.

The First Lady’s remarks raise two significant questions. First, is there anything inherently wrong with engaging in small-scale businesses or other forms of honest enterprise? Second, why did her remarks elicit such widespread frustration among Nigerians? The answer to the first question is clear: there is nothing wrong with earning a living through lawful and dignified work, regardless of its scale.

The second question, however, requires a more nuanced understanding of Nigeria’s prevailing socio-economic conditions. Many Nigerians are facing soaring inflation, rising unemployment, declining purchasing power, and widespread economic hardship.

In this context, any message that appears to place the entire burden of survival on citizens—without adequately recognizing these structural challenges or the government’s role in addressing them—will likely be met with skepticism and resentment. It is this broader context—not the concept of entrepreneurship itself—that helps explain why many Nigerians reacted so strongly to the First Lady’s comments.

The First Lady’s advice is commendable and reflects the reality many Nigerians face daily. Across Nigeria, countless families have built respectable livelihoods through petty trading and other informal business ventures.

Engaging in these entrepreneurial activities, particularly selling local foods, has proven crucial for supporting families—funding school fees, financing homes, and sustaining generations of aspiring entrepreneurs. It is essential to acknowledge that honest labor, regardless of the enterprise’s scale, deserves respect and recognition in society.

However, the core of the controversy is not the entrepreneurial spirit the First Lady advocates, but the broader economic context in which these businesses operate. Nigerians face formidable challenges, including soaring inflation, rising food prices, rampant unemployment, and a noticeable decline in purchasing power.

In this environment, it is reasonable for citizens to expect their leaders not only to champion entrepreneurship but also to create conditions that enable businesses—both small and large—to thrive and grow.

When addressing controversial topics, effective communication is not a luxury; it is a fundamental responsibility of leadership. Public officials must communicate with clarity, precision, and sensitivity to earn the understanding and trust of the people they serve.

They should not wait for controversy to erupt before clarifying their intended message. Had the First Lady articulated her message more carefully from the outset, much of the public backlash might have been avoided.

Equally important, her media team should have anticipated how her remarks would be received in the prevailing socioeconomic climate. A well-crafted communication strategy could have addressed legitimate public concerns while reinforcing the noble intentions behind her remarks.

In today’s media environment, where statements are instantly amplified, scrutinized, and often taken out of context, leaders cannot afford to be casual with their words. Every public message should be deliberate, thoughtfully prepared, and attuned to the audience’s realities and emotions.

Thus, effective leadership is measured not only by the quality of one’s policies and initiatives but also by the ability to communicate them in ways that inspire confidence, foster understanding, and strengthen the bond between leaders and the people they serve.

Nigerians should understand that not everyone will find employment at NNPC; not everyone will work in banking; not everyone will become a priest; nor will everyone serve as a governor or president.

In whatever field you find yourself, strive to excel; you never know when a helping hand might come your way. Some individuals, both men and women, have risen from humble beginnings to achieve remarkable success. One notable example is a restaurant in Makurdi owned by a woman named Aver.

She started on a small scale, gradually expanded her business, and now operates one of the largest restaurants in the area, complete with a two-story building and ample parking. Many of us are familiar with her journey, while those who aren’t might mistakenly believe she started on a grand scale. Her story accurately reflects what the First Lady suggested.

During my studies in the US, I met a classmate who worked in a restaurant, serving customers and washing dishes. When I asked about his situation, he said, “I have a scholarship for my studies, but I work here to earn extra money for personal expenses my scholarship doesn’t cover.”

In that moment, I was reminded of the dignity of honest labor. His willingness to work hard, despite already receiving financial support, taught me that self-reliance, humility, and perseverance are essential to success.

Rather than relying entirely on others, he chose to take responsibility for his needs. This experience shifted my perspective and reinforced my belief that no honest job is beneath anyone determined to achieve their goals with integrity. Why do I share this story? I share it because it imparted a profound lesson about the dignity of labor, personal responsibility, and self-reliance.

My classmate showed that there is no shame in doing honest work to meet one’s needs. His example challenged the misconception that certain jobs are unsuitable for educated individuals and served as a reminder that success is built on hard work, humility, and a willingness to make sacrifices. It reinforced my belief that a person’s character is measured not by the kind of work they do, but by the honesty, dedication, and integrity with which they approach it.

Now, consider a scenario in which that student is Nigerian. In many cases, he may be hesitant to take on smaller-scale jobs, such as working in a restaurant or washing dishes. This reluctance often stems from the belief that earning a degree—especially from a prestigious institution like Harvard—would elevate him above such positions. He might think, “I have put in significant effort to earn my qualifications; I deserve a respectable role in a bank, the Nigerian National Petroleum Corporation (NNPC), or a federal government agency.”

His ambitions may even extend to seeking political office or other high-status careers, as he believes these paths better reflect his educational achievements. While this mindset does not represent all Nigerians, it underscores a societal attitude that often equates success with white-collar employment rather than valuing honest, productive work of any kind. Such perceptions can stifle entrepreneurship and self-employment, even when these avenues offer viable opportunities for personal growth and economic independence.

I anticipate some may criticize my perspective, accusing me of defending the First Lady’s initiatives while living in a bubble, detached from the realities ordinary Nigerians face. Some may even argue that, as a Catholic priest, I enjoy a level of comfort and security that prevents me from appreciating the daily struggles of many citizens.